Will Power & Regret
I am one of those consumers who has a hard time committing to a purchase. At a very young age I learned what a dollar was and what it could buy. Turns out it wasn’t very much, and since there were few dollars to spare in our household, a purchase of say, a $25 pair of jeans or a dinner out could be easily translated into a bill that could be paid or some other necessity that could be taken care of. This didn’t mean we never bought the jeans or went out for dinner, it just usually meant that there was a lot of anxiety surrounding it. Spending money was always something we weren’t supposed to be doing but did anyway.
As I got older and moved out on my own, there were more financial wakeup calls. And newer lessons about a consumer culture and the push to buy more, more, more. I watched debt destroy my mother when I was a child and I was determined to be smarter with my money, but nevertheless managed to find myself in a couple of debtful situations that I had to dig myself out of. Good lessons were learned, better systems were implemented and all that.
When we decided to move away from the Midwest, I got serious about my money and through careful spending and diligent saving managed to amass a sizeable chunk of cash in a relatively short period of time. Then we bought a house and all our money was just gone. I mourned the security I felt in having some savings in the bank.
Of course, then we owned a home. And I can tell you, nothing sucks away your resources like owning a great, big, old house. It isn’t as if we were even really able to do much with it. It was a mess when we bought it and it was a mess when we sold it. Just paying the heating bills and the taxes and the little things we could fix was a never ending drain.
Then there was the year of unemployment for Mr. Knittiot, which resulted in further tightening of the belt and more in-depth analysis of our relationship with the consumer culture. I learned so much about myself during that time. It was amazing how on the outside of everything money can make you feel.
There is a new book out right now called Not Buying It. It chronicles the author’s year of not spending any money beyond the necessities. I would love to go into what some of her “necessities” are, but there is this slightly bitter teenager in my head who was forced to attend a school filled with a bunch of rich, entitled, snotty brats and she occassionally likes to emerge and spout inappropriate things. I have learned that her generalizations are unfair and inaccurate on some occasions and so I just remind her of this and she tends to sulk away.
I read an interview with the author and she made some very interesting observations about how this affects your life. She talked about feeling isolated and left out. Since she hadn’t seen the movies or read the books everyone else was talking about, she felt stupid. Without shopping to occupy her time, she had a lot of it and didn’t always know what to do with it all. She also found that her relationship with her partner grew deeper, she discovered lots of places she had forgotten about such as the library and attended more events in her community because they were free.
Because of all these experiences in my life, I am a reluctant shopper. It isn’t that I don’t want to. On the contrary, I am filled with a desire to just walk into a store and buy whatever I want. But that isn’t really an option. And the illusion that it is an option for anyone is just that — smoke and mirrors. Still, we have the impression that this is what people do. They just spend money and don’t ever think twice about it. We imagine that they are worry free when it comes to finances, but we see about 0.2% of people’s worries in general and this is usually just fine with us.
On Oprah, recently, she has been on a kick about helping Americans reduce their debt. I find it ironic that she can have a show on debt reduction one day and the next highlight a shoe designer that makes uncomfortable (though, admittedly beautiful) footwear I would have to save for a year to buy. Even so, I think she is very admirable for trying to help people get a handle on their spending habits. As I was watching the second episode in the series, one of the debt reducing families talked about the reaction from some of her family and friends. Many of them were embarassed. They didn’t really want to know this about them, didn’t want to be associated with them. The wife said she felt that if they had come on Oprah and said they were swingers they would have gotten a better response. And largely, I have found this to be true. Money is a hush hush subject. And so our unhealthy little habits are allowed to fester and grow in secret and in isolation.
Shortly after I learned how to knit, my husband lost his job. As a knitter this makes me one of those shameful anomalies — one with a very small stash of uninteresting and uninspiring yarns. I have no Koigu, no Lorna’s Laces. I have few pattern books and even fewer finished objects. I don’t have a complete set of needles and own no Lantern Moon and only a couple pairs of Addis. I don’t have a fancy knitting bag and weekly trips to the LYS in which money is spent is not an option. I am not saying this because I want sympathy or donations or anything else. This is just a fact. Do I want those things? Yes, sometimes I do. But not always. Because having them isn’t going to make me feel any better.
Last night I went to Loop. Loop is my favorite yarn store. Mostly because Craig and his staff are the best kind of people. They make you feel welcome. They are just as in love with the yarn as you are and they will talk to you about it for hours. But it is also my favorite because they have shelf after shelf of beautiful, soft and delicious yarns in colors that make your heart want to cry. Everytime I go there I have to exert some of my well-developed will power. I have gotten good at saying no to the seduction over the years. But sometimes, there is something I want and I really want it and it is a good and a beautiful thing to want, and somehow the will power takes over without my permission and I walk away without it. And then, Regret. I’ve gotten so good at saying no, I’m afraid to say yes. Yes opens up the flood gates of longing. And I still know what a dollar can buy and its even less than when I was a child.
April 11th, 2006 at 8:49 am
yes. Yes. YES. In the land of tightening belts over in S. Philly we hear you loud and clear. I am sometimes so appalled at the consumerism. And sometimes I feel guilty for going to a store like Loop.. spending time there.. and not spending money. I know that is how he stays in business and right now… without alot of money to spare.. I worry that I am too much a hanger on and not helping business. (Altho I do drag people there to make them spend their money. oh yes.) But I hear you. Loud and clear. And so actually buying something last nite was really wild. I think Sue was super shocked. But then.. a gift is sometimes more cherished than if you buy it yourself.
(ok I am rambling. Nice to see you last nite)
April 11th, 2006 at 8:54 am
Yes, it is hard. But yet, there is a kind of rejoicing in the “not buying” mode. How badly do we need enough yarn to knit 5 sweaters and 6 shawls. I have a “stash”. I have been buying for the future. I know my life will be changing shortly. Financially I’ll be unable to buy what I can buy now. I have 5 bins of yarn. I am also officially “done.” It’s hard, yet it’s empowering. You are most definitely not alone. I grew up working poor. It is what it is. I think sometimes there are way more of us out there than we realize.
April 11th, 2006 at 3:58 pm
Hi. It was great meeting you at Loop last night.
Linda S.
April 11th, 2006 at 4:05 pm
Here is another one! Me too. I’m sorry that I can’t remember, but if you learn to spin you can make a CD spindle for under a dollar and get fleece from some darling local spinning guild for free. Yes it is dirty fleece and you have to wash it at home and dry it on some old screen or something and use a dog brush or comb to fluff it out and then make your own yarn. There are tons of connections on the internet to teach spinning and then there is your guild… People drop off free fleeces at mine quite often. Sometimes its a member dropping it off, sometimes a farm nearby. They don’t all sell their fleeces. Also people go to farms where they see sheep and ask if they would sell a whole fleece to them for the price of their shearing so they don’t loose money shearing the sheep. They might be glad for $20 even. That would be 4-8 lbs of fleece or more, I’m not sure. This has transformed my life. Now I feel like I’m more valuable and my spinning/knitting is not based on money anymore. True I still sting when I’m around those who can so easily drop money or throw it around, but I am empowered and I’d like to see you have the same pleasure. Contact me if you want any help/ideas about this.
http://knittersreview.com/forum/default.asp?CAT_ID=8
PS guilds allow you to go to the monthly spinning meetings without joining too. Mine holds a $1 raffle at the meetings but I’ve been told that we don’t have to do it. So it is free. There are monied folk there also, be aware, some rich folk like spinning, but they keep “shut up” about their exorbitances on the most part. Also there is a knitters forum with a spinning section KR, Knitter’s Review. http://knittersreview.com/forum/default.asp?CAT_ID=8
Presently I don’t have any money at all, I’m on overdraft although I haven’t done that in years. Ah well, I try to stay calm. Spinning is calming like knitting, hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you feel like it.
April 11th, 2006 at 4:06 pm
http://shuvani11.livejournal.com/
That is my livejournal page, sorry I must have put the wrong link in on the last post and didn’t realize it.
April 11th, 2006 at 4:39 pm
Andy, I appreciate your comments and suggestions. I do want to point out, however, that I am not lamenting here. Not in anyway. Just merely doing a little public self reflection and examining of my own relationship with money and why it is sometimes difficult for me to spend it even when I have it. Most importantly, I do NOT at all intend these personal reflections to be any kind of commentary on people who have a considerable amount of money to spend on yarn — this is their passion and their expression of it and I will never place a judgement on that. It isn’t fair to do so. At this point, I find myself in a position where I do have some money to spend on yarn (it is just difficult for me to actually spend it) and this is a nice feeling. This is not an “us/them” thing. We all are merely where we are based on our decisions and circumstances. Money doesn’t make us better than anyone and neither does not having any. I am a spinner and very resourceful, but also still manage to buy yarn I like and sometimes my expenditures can be considered quite decadent — these purchases just require a little careful planning and saving. As do, most likely, everyone else’s.
April 11th, 2006 at 5:53 pm
I’m not in a belt-tightening phase right now; in fact, it has loosened a little lately. However, my only regular indulgence is yarn. Clothes, makeup, shoes, and jewelry were all on the list at one point. I manage my greed by not going to stores. Recently I went to a dept store to buy a pair of pants, a sports bra, and mascara, and I was amazed to find that all the desire was still there, untapped. I could have stayed there for hours. I wanted to pick out 2-3 pairs of shoes, some shirts, maybe some earrings.
I wanted to think that I was more mature because of not buying that stuff so much anymore, but I could be back there in a heartbeat.
I always enjoy your discussions about money because it is such a personal subject. I think spending and saving deserve more consideration that they get.
April 11th, 2006 at 9:43 pm
I’m in the middle of reading Not Buying It right now AND living in a less consuming mode, too.
My company went bankrupt 2 years ago and I started freelancing from home. Then my husband had surgery on his ankle that went horribly wrong, resulting in him not working for over a year. Needless to say, shopping is no longer an activity we partake in.
Never the less, I’m happy to have been able to be home to care for my husband (he was non weightbearing and unable to walk) and incredibly grateful to no longer have the stress of the high powered job. It’s been a tradeoff that I feel has been favorable for us.
On the knitting front, I’m only knitting from my stash unless it’s a specifc gift item. I’ve actually been doing alot of charity knitting for kids, as that’s the color palette i own most of.
All in all, I’m happier and healthier without the money and subsequent shopping =)
April 12th, 2006 at 12:21 am
I also have watched my parents struggle with debt and have had my own struggles, so I can identify perfectly with this. As I’ve gone into debt reduction mode over the past year, my fiber habit has probably been my hardest to break, but even that has attenuated out of both necessity & as I’ve got enough stash to keep me busy for a while. Thanks very much for this particular rumination, as it was a nice reinforcement of the issues I’ve had to consider myself.
April 12th, 2006 at 11:16 am
This is why I read your stuff, Ma’am. You just get right to the heart of things. Like Alison, I find the most effective thing is to just stay out of the mall entirely. If I don’t see it, I don’t need it; if I do see it, there’s sure to be a struggle.
I have a longstanding fascination/flirtation with voluntary simplicity; I’m not a fully-committed downsizer, but I find encouragement and inspiration to make little changes in the literature of the movement. I can recommend Affluenza (either book or the PBS series it was based on–most likely available at your library!) as an excellent innoculator against consumerism. I re-read it every so often to strengthen my shopping defenses.
April 12th, 2006 at 9:39 pm
Pardon me, I never meant to suggest an oppositional stance to those who have more or less! Sorry.
April 13th, 2006 at 5:42 pm
Amazing, when I read your entry today, it could have been a description of my spending habits. I just can’t spend any money at all, I want to have that feeling of safety for the tough times and we have been through so many. I have a stash of yarn under my bed, but most of it is over 10 years old. As I love to knit cotton, I do not have to fear the moths, but the weird colors of the 90s or even 80s - no one wants to wear anything knitted with them. I look at the stash every so often and start a washcloth or a potholder, but that is it. I love to visit a LYS, but there is so much to choose from that I get too overwhelmed to even buy anything. I just look, touch, feel and dream of possible projects. As my sister has similar spending habits I do blame my mom that we turned out this way. Or actually thank her for it, as we all appreciate the small things in life. Susanne
April 14th, 2006 at 2:25 pm
Wow, what an amazing post…it could have been yanked out of my journal - such similarities except I truly admire your will power - I try, I should try harder - my husband is much better at that than I am, my mother is incredibly strong in the will power area and very good at keeping her head straight about money and priorities - I often suffer the remorse/guilt at a new purchase and struggle with feeling that way.
I am reading the Yarn Rules book and think after reading your post I might pick up that “not buying” book
April 17th, 2006 at 9:21 am
It’s interesting - because saving, living responsibly with money IS a mark of shame in our world. Not universally…..but not having more than enough is often seen as a failure…rather than as product of circumstances, or even as part of a choice about how to live and what to prioritize.
I’ve made a commitment this year to fixing my own priorities on this front -I realize it would be hard to tell that from the yarn buying, but I swear - to switching myself to a personal cash economy instead of a credit one. I want to make instead of buy, not commit debt as a matter of course, enrich my life with thinking and feeling and being and doing, not just acquiring and adding.
It is going to be harder than I think, but at the end of it, I hope to have a life I respect. Rather than jut one that has nice stuff.
Of course, that’s AFTER I pay for the new wheel.
April 19th, 2006 at 10:37 am
Hee! A “personal cash economy”–I love it. It’s a perfect mental image: “The country might be spending its way into a black hole of debt, but this little sovereignty within it will not!”
A few years ago, I made the best New Year’s Resolution I’ve ever come up with: “Less having, more doing.” It’s still serving me well.